Chapter Text
Have you ever felt like you are being pulled apart? Cole would have given a positive answer. Being a son of a professional dancer and singer, he himself did not escape such a fate. Fortunately, he managed to evade the singing part. However, this did not change the fact that he had to avoid sponsorship companies that tried to lure him to themselves. After all, he was a multiple champion of Ninjago, taking first place over and over again. Of course, Brookstone refused them time after time. And now, sitting in yet another office, he was about to say no. Although there was no particular reason to refuse, the brunette could not stand all this bureaucracy. And he preferred dancing for his own pleasure, not for the sake of money. Despite the fact that he only started doing it professionally with his father's kick.
The young man leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers. His head was empty, as if filled with white noise. Silence was his companion until the moment the door opened and someone entered the room. Cole turned around.
A young man in a business suit walked calmly to the table. His blond hair was neatly styled, slicked back slightly. And his bright blue eyes shone against his snow-white skin. Looks like an important person here. He sat down in a chair facing the brunette. The two of them were separated by a glass table.
“You're Mr. Brookstone, I presume?” the dancer nodded at him, breaking out of his own thoughts. “I'm Zane Julien, a representative of Borg Industries. I think you can understand why we're here without me explaining.”
Cole resisted the urge to roll his eyes. For some reason, this guy's measured voice got on his nerves. Why did he even agree to his father's persuasions again? The young man opened his mouth but he was interrupted before any sound could leave him.
“And before you refuse, I would like you to take a look at the terms of our agreement,” Julien handed his interlocutor a small folder with documents. The latter silently accepted it and opened it.
The amber eyes moved slowly and attentively from side to side, tracing the text they were reading. The terms of agreement seemed to be much better than with previous companies. Brookstone wasn't looking forward to doing it, though. He read the long text without much interest until he was hooked by a couple of tempting points. One of them talked about paid sick leave. It was something that he sometimes lacked. He couldn't help but remember the times when the coach forced him to work out at a high temperature. The main goal has always been to take the gold. The disappointment in his father's eyes at the sight of silver surfaced in the young man's mind. He almost shuddered. After reading the document to the end, Cole looked up at the blond man.
***
He agreed, damn him. The moment of his own hand making a calligraphic signature on white paper froze in his head. And this Zane. What kind of name is that anyway? He only smiled politely at the dancer, thanking him for his cooperation.
Brookstone got into a taxi and carefully slammed the door, muttering the address to the driver. The car started moving and pulled onto the road. The brunette leaned his temple against the window, exhaling through his nose. His head was empty again but instead of the usual white noise, it was like a siren was buzzing. A dull pain hit his temples. The young man's eyelids grew heavy and drooped by themselves. He had already regretted his decision. It was a pity that he couldn't just give up the responsibility.
***
Cole’s sleep schedule was pretty erratic as always. Although the desire to sleep until noon was almost unbearable. Sprawled on the bed in the pose of a starfish, he stared at the ceiling. He couldn't think about anything in particular, his brain refused to fully wake up.
The phone on the bedside table buzzed. It was an annoying sound, especially on a Saturday.
The brunette lazily rolled over on his side and reached for his gadget. Flopping back onto the bed, he glanced at the screen. Of course, who else could be calling him but Jay? He picked up, turned on the speaker, and placed the phone next to his ear on the pillow.
“You awake?” the familiar voice of his friend came from the speaker. Brookstone just mumbled something unintelligible to his question, rubbing his face with his hands. “I see…” the young man drawled, pausing, “How was yesterday's interview? Refused again?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I agreed.”
There was an awkward silence. A rustle of cloth was heard on the other end of the call. Apparently Walker hadn't gotten out of bed yet either.
“I thought you were going to retire,” he recalled, a little puzzled. After all, he was the one who listened to his friend's endless grumbles about how tired he was of all this and how much his father irritated him.
Cole took his hands off his face and thought about his words. It was true. He intended to leave. However, something still held him back. The brunette loved music and dancing. His soul was free in the familiar process. The young man could forget about the outside world for a couple of minutes thanks to it. He liked to see the enthusiastic stares of the crowd, and he liked to hear their cheers when he performed. But because of Lou's lapping, he hated it just as much. His favorite activity has turned into a routine, into a job that he’s already fed up with.
“I decided to join in the last competitions before I leave,” he finally replied in a hoarse voice. This was the last topic the young man wanted to talk about. He slowly rose to a sitting position, slightly hunched over and hanging his legs off the bed.
Jay knew his friend well and would never try to change his mind. Like no one else, he understood how passionate Brookstone was about music. Whatever else the brunette was doing, Walker did not see the same spark as when he was dancing.
When their call ended, Cole didn't waste any time and went to the bathroom. He looked at his disheveled hair, sleepy face, and tired eyes. He even felt sorry for himself for a second. But only for a second. Splashing cool water on his face, the young man felt a slight surge of cheerfulness. Although what kind of cheerfulness can we talk about on a Saturday morning. Without even bothering to change his clothes, he trudged into the kitchen. He could use a mug of hot coffee.
Fortunately for Brookstone, he did not meet his father anywhere. Right now, he didn't want to be the victim of the older man's questions at all. Soon, the cozy kitchen was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. This smell was familiar to the young man, even soothing. He remembered getting up early in the morning as a child, and his parents were getting ready for work. The adults liked to drink coffee together. Lilly always preferred to add vanilla to it, loving this sweet fragrance.
Cole liked the smell too, because it reminded him of his mom. It reminded him of how warm and safe she'd always been. And Lou was different then. Happier. But, unfortunately, this fairy tale was soon destroyed when his mother became seriously ill. It hurt, it really hurt. The brunette doesn't remember how many nights he cried. Lilly always told him to be strong but those first few days without her were the most terrifying of his life.
The click of the toaster brought Brookstone out of the depths of his mind. He shook his head slightly, lost. The young man took hold of the handle of the cup and poured himself coffee. One of the reasons he disliked silence was his vulnerability to his own thoughts. The music saved him. He pulled himself together and focused on his morning routine. The training won't wait.
***
Spacious hall, parquet, familiar mirrors. The place was really huge. Local competitions were often held here.
Cole put his bag on the floor and took out his phone and loudspeaker. He turned on the first song he could find and began to warm up. He stretched his arms, legs, and back. The young man bent down, hugging his knees with his arms and touching them with his forehead. Thanks to hard training in childhood, the brunette had a good stretch in his twenties. With a deep sigh, he straightened up, raising his arms above his head. Gradually, the dancer began to bend back until he did a bridge. Thick black hair touched the smooth floor. Pushing off with his feet, the young man stood on his hands. The guy's cheeks were slightly pinkish after a recent run. Right now, all his head was occupied with was the music, echoing, and his own movements. After a bad experience with one of the tricks, Brookstone spent a lot of time warming up. Getting a muscular strain or twisting a limb didn't sound appealing.
Jazz dancing was Cole's passion. It was his way of showing and venting his emotions. When his mother was still alive, he loved going with her to the performances of his father and his band. The boy wanted to be like him. Right now, the brunette would prefer not to have anything to do with this man. Deep down, he still loved Lou but being around him was unbearable. Especially when he looked at him like at his greatest disappointment and tried to mold him into his copy.
Immersed in the process, the brunette performed movement after movement. Even his heart seemed to beat along with the music. Unlike his old man, Brookstone preferred solo performances. Working in a group meant synchronization, and he was having trouble with that. Pair dancing didn't suit him either. The young man simply did not feel his partner as well as he felt himself. He was lucky that his father didn't bother him about it.
At the moment, Cole was as free as ever. The surrounding reality ceased to exist for him. All that mattered was the music and the parquet floor under his feet.
Being in his own little world, the brunette did not notice how someone entered the hall.
Zane has never had anything to do with dancers. He never imagined that he would ever have to work with one of them. It may seem strange to some that such a young man held a fairly high position in a prestigious organization. But the answer was really simple. His late father and Cyrus Borg were good friends. Two great inventors of our time who formed the foundation for future technologies. Julien did not live to see the company founded due to his age, and his son was hired. The young man was a brilliant genius, so it wasn't just luck that helped him climb the career ladder. The corporation gave him the opportunity to show his ideas to the world and put them into practice.
Clutching the tablet to his chest, he silently watched Brookstone’s practice. The blond almost held his breath, unable to look away. The grace and energy of the dancer's movements captivated him. The blue-eyed man was even glad that he had come in unnoticed. He didn't want to embarrass Cole and risk their agreement. However, the young man couldn't bring himself to move. He had seen some performances on TV more than once but there was always something missing.
Julien could have sworn he saw it now. Seemed like he could touch the storm of emotions that surrounded the brunette. Zane could almost sense what the other was feeling. The dancer's ability to transfer inner feelings into movements fascinated him, sowing something new in his heart.
Sparkling warmth,
Small flame smolders.
A breeze will blow,
And like a frightened child,
It stops shining.